In its flame he saw the colourless face of Mrs.Anthony a little below him, standing on the cabin stairs.
Her eyes which were very close to his (he was in a crouching posture on the top step) seemed to burn darkly in the vanishing light.

On deck the captain's voice was heard sudden and unexpectedly sardonic: "You had better look sharp, if you want to be in time." "Let me have the box," said Mrs.Anthony in a hurried and familiar whisper which sounded amused as if they had been a couple of children up to some lark behind a wall.

He was glad of the offer which seemed to him very natural, and without ceremony-- "Here you are.

Catch hold." Their hands touched in the dark and she took the box while he held the paraffin soaked torch in its iron holder.

He thought of warning her: "Look out for yourself." But before he had the time to finish the sentence the flare blazed up violently between them and he saw her throw herself back with an arm across her face.